How do you see your world?

Do you see people as inherently good or evil? Do you believe in the goodness of humanity? Well I posed these questions to Michael and Matt on the way somewhere. They are captive in my car, captive to my questions and always fight for what they call 'shotgun.' And why is it called shotgun - was this where people driving solo placed their shotguns? Sounds logical. I guess you wouldn't place your shotgun in the back seat but I digress.

The question was this: "Do you believe kids are basically mean or nice." Well if you knew these boys you might guess their answers. Michael said, "Kids at the Discovery Camp were all brats." I guess this was his representative sampling of kids but I was looking at an even bigger picture. I was looking for their philosophies of life. Then Matt said without hestitation at all, he thought kids were basically nice.

Interesting too to note that Matt is one of the nicest kids on the planet and Michael is well . . . getting nicer as he matures. He just gave Daniel $10 for his birthday present. This was just astounding to me as Michael literally 'earns' about $5 per week. He gave away his babysitting money.

And this gesture makes me see and believe in the good in people.

Speaking of the good in people. A friend, 83, who died in August wrote this in his Christmas letter: "I had great parents." What a great thing. I unfortunately cannot say that - not even close but their were glimpses of goodness. For all their failings:

My mother (who grew up in a segregated society, with a black maid, and prejudiced against black people) invited Clarence, a black boy with corn rows, to my brother's birthday party probably 45+ years ago. She told me this like she was proud and other parents were surprised. Clarence was literally the only black child who lived near our neighborhood. And when I saw him at my brother's funeral he told me how good my parents were to him. I knew him as a young girl (my brother was 9 years older) and had no idea.

My dad (who also grew up in a segregated society, with a black maid, and prejudiced against most people) seemed truly touched to have gotten to know an amiable black man at a bar years ago. I don't think he had ever gotten to know a black person on a personal level and it surprised him. I think they even talked about deep topics like how it was for this man to be black.

My mother used to invite a homeless ex-neighbor over for Thanksgiving periodically. He lived out of his car. She even invited him to take a shower whenever he came to visit.

My dad told me once "I think you're just great."

My mother sat with me in the shade as I suffered from heat stroke at a track meet in 8th grade.

Unrelated thought

A quotation from Michael: "Being woken up by an alarm can make 9 hours of sleep feel like 6."